


Chairs

by i_am_deaded



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Crack, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Prompt Fic, Random & Short, Sherlock's Antics, Tumblr Prompt, otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 13:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3328088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_deaded/pseuds/i_am_deaded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the second time, tumblr is random enough to give me an idea for a little fic:<br/>"Important otp question: which one would spin in the squeaky office chair and which would glare at them until they stopped"<br/>Not exactly like the prompt, but close enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chairs

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to whoever this was, because it's hilarious to think about. Not britpicked, but I tried to make it good. Feel free to point out errors, or comment on what you liked/didn't like. Enjoy :)

Lestrade had asked them to come in that morning. Normally, Sherlock would tell the Detective Inspector where to shove it and to text him if he had anything that was actually interesting. But today, the DI had insisted that this case was at least a 7.

Grumbling under his breath, the consulting detective had thrown himself into his room to change out of the dressing gown and pyjamas he had been wearing (in a stroppy fit) for the past three days. Even though John had been at work for two of those three days, Sherlock had endeavored to make the remaining hours he spent in the flat as miserable as possible – doing experiments, ‘playing’ his violin and basically making more of a nuisance of himself than usual. John was ready to strangle him.

So there they were, sitting in the office chairs across from Lestrade. John was making notes, and Sherlock was slumped ever so slightly in his chair. While John noticed when Sherlock lost interest in the case in the first five minutes, the DI laid out the details of an unusual missing persons case, missing Sherlock’s boredom completely. Living with Sherlock had enabled John to be able to read Sherlock better than most. However, this didn’t mean much, since Sherlock was a good actor and a master at concealing his true feelings when he wanted to. Why he hadn’t stopped the DI’s rambling as of yet, John didn’t know. And then he got his answer.

_Squeak._

John’s writing paused for a moment, then he continued.

“… and there haven’t been any indications of– ”

_Squeeeeaak._

The DI looked up from his papers. John’s eyes slid to Sherlock, turned in his chair. He tried not to laugh.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lestrade continued.

“There haven’t been any indications of violence in the bedrooms or living rooms, but– ”

_SQUEEEEAAK._

John huffed a small laugh and then coughed to cover it up, but Sherlock was grinning at him and after a moment he lost the battle and giggled.

“Can we be serious for just a minute?” The DI angrily glared at the both of them.

“Oh, yes, sorry,” said Sherlock in a tone that didn’t convey any apology. “Just got a bit distracted. Carry on.”

Lestrade just glared at them. _Distracted my arse,_ though the DI.

Before he could get another word out of his mouth Sherlock turned multiple times in his chair.

_Squeak squeak SQUEAK–_

That was when John completely lost it. His small giggles turned into full blown laughter. He didn’t know why, but these childish antics coming from Sherlock weren’t all that surprising. Sherlock was grinning like the Cheshire cat which made John laugh even more.

“Enough!” thundered the DI.

John tried to stop his laughter, wiping at his eyes.

“John, Sherlock, if you aren’t going to be serious I’d rather not waste my time, but we’ve got no leads and we’re running out of time– ”

“It was obviously the jealous lover,” Sherlock said abruptly. “Probably a bit mad after she told them she couldn’t see them again. Her husband had confronted her about it, going by the state of the bedroom, and they made up. She promised not to see her lover again, most likely she was telling the truth.” Sherlock paused and looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. “Probably a close friend or someone who knew her better than most. One or two years younger. A work associate.”

The DI just stared at him. “Well then we’ll look deeper into the finances of her coworkers and see if any of the men match up.”

“And women,” said Sherlock testily. “This woman is obviously bisexual.”

John and Lestrade both gave him looks.

Sherlock sighed. “I won’t bore you with the details. Just look at all the men and women ages 35-37 and you will find your suspect. Really Lestrade, you’re lucky I had nothing better to do today.”

The consulting detective stood up abruptly. “Come along, John. Maybe Molly will have some femurs for me to look at.”

John followed him out. The DI sat there a few moments longer before picking up the phone to make some calls.

Once they were outside, John asked Sherlock about what had just gone on back there.

“What was with the squeaking? And how could you have possibly known that the victim was bisexual?”

Sherlock stopped and looked at John for a moment, his gaze intense. “The husband must have known this about her, seeing as he forgave her quite easily. Probably thought he had to compete with the others. Of course that’s not how it works most of the time, but people are idiots when it comes to things like this.” He looked away for a moment, the back at John. “I could also tell by her style of clothing and the pictures in her bedroom – most of them were very intimate.”  
John stiffened. “Just because she likes to get cozy with people doesn’t mean she’s bi, Sherlock.”

“That’s true, but in this case it only helped me reach that point in my deductions,” replied the consulting detective. “She was comfortable with her sexuality and didn’t exactly try to hide who she was.”

“Fine, it doesn’t matter,” John retorted.

They walked for a few minutes in heavy silence, and John was about to say something before Sherlock beat him to it.

“I figured the squeaking would be funny,” he said. “And annoy Lestrade.”

John sighed. Of course. Still a five-year-old at heart.

What Sherlock didn’t tell him, however, was that he had observed that John had been having a bad week. First dealing with Sherlock and the case, then dealing with bored Sherlock and annoying patients at the clinic. Sherlock was confident that his flatmate hadn’t genuinely smiled in the past five days and he didn’t want that streak to continue. After hearing the DI blather on about his missing persons case (which in Sherlock’s opinion was barely a 5) Sherlock had decided to take action, which had had surprisingly good results.

They continued on their way, deciding to walk home since it was a nice day. As they rounded the corner onto Baker Street, John turned to Sherlock.

“You know, Sherlock, I– ” John started.

“It’s fine John. It’s all fine.” Sherlock stared resolutely ahead.

“Oh, well, uh, alright,” replied John, confused.

They approached the door to 221B and Sherlock unlocked the door, bounding up the stairs at high speed. John heard him whip off his coat and flop unceremoniously onto the sofa before John himself had reached the third step.

As John ascended the stairs at a normal pace, thinking about what Sherlock had just said to him not minutes ago, a thought came to mind: _I wonder if he… no. He couldn’t possibly._

John hesitated at the top of the stairs and looked at his flatmate sprawled out on the sofa haphazardly. He closed the door to their flat and headed to the kitchen sink to put on the kettle.

_Maybe._

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it. This may be the beginning to something? Or maybe just a little thing in an accumulation of many other things...  
> Anyway, leave a comment, kudos or whatever you like. Thanks again for reading!


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